From the Diary of Hermione Granger
by Calleigh Jane
Summary: The Holidays are a crazy time for Hermione Granger, as you will see in this little one-shot. Rated M for some language, some substance abuse, and some sex.


Entry One

December 18th

11:45 PM

I'm not sure when it was that he started stumbling into my home when he was inebriated. I suppose I brought it on myself, though. I remember that night, although I can't for the life of me remember how long ago it was, or how it happened. I suppose it had something to do with my own rather high blood-alcohol level. But I do know that it happened, and that now he comes over nearly every time he's drunk.

On one particular night, I was sitting alone at a bar. Yes, I suppose that's how it always starts, right? But I was at a bar, and I was alone. (And for that error in judgment, I deserve every drunken rage I receive.) I had already downed a few Fire Whiskey's, but I didn't feel all that intoxicated. I saw a few lonely souls sitting around me, but none of them looked up for conversation. So I sat there alone. Until I heard him outside.

I could here him raging already, and I knew it was him. "Merlin's trousers, Malfoy!" I shouted as I stumbled out the pub's door. "Do you have to squall like an animal _everywhere _you go?" I know, not the politest thing to say, but what can I tell you? I was drunk, and he was my bitterest enemy. (No exaggeration there, I promise you.)

Anyhow, he responded with a drunken cry: "Yes, Granger! When I drink, I squeal like a little piglet!" The funny thing was that he said it with such dignity, I didn't have the heart to laugh. I almost took pity on him. So I sat him down on a bench.

"What are you doing in a place where blood status is of no value?" I asked him, the drunk half of me joking. The other half was entirely serious. What in the name of the Lord Almighty was he doing at a creaky old pub in the middle of the night, alone no less? Initially, he was too busy giggling to bother answering me. It was quite possibly the most animated I'd ever seen the dear ferret. He giggled and slapped his thighs like my question had brought on a spasm of joy.

And then he answered me. "Because my friends think..."-here he burped- "I'm a muck-sucking blood-forgiver." Now that I think on his statement, I should have been heartily offended. But as I before mentioned, we were both rather... out of it. Not thinking anything of his offensive language, I asked him what the hell he was on about. He continued: "My friends... believe that I've forgiven all the muggleborns... for having dirty blood. But I spilled a'plenty... in the war. They're blood's same's ours. Red." He took a sip (well, more like a chug, but I'll be gracious) from his flask.

"Say, what have you got in there?" I asked him.

"Fire Whiskey. With a twist." He smirked completely lopsidedly. I nearly choked on my own laughter.

"You look like a sodding idiot, you know that?" I hiccuped out. He didn't answer me at first, and instead moved to get off of the bench, feigning offense. But he fell flat on his bum, and started squealing again. "Lord, you do sound like a pig!"

"Oh shut it, Granger." He smiled. "My, but you do look awful pure-blooded this evening."

"Is that why I've been given the honor of your company?" I shot back, feeling my smile begin to fall. I took my fingers and tried to push it back up on my face. (Yes, it pains me to talk about how idiotic I get when inebriated. Nevertheless, I'm pressing on.) He stared at me as I pushed and prodded my cheeks. The efforts made both of us giggle.

"Hey, at least we're both happy drunks, right?" He laughed, pulling himself back onto the bench. He seemed to have forgotten my question, and at the time, I forgot it too.

With that, I made a semi-logical decision to take him home. It started like this:

_Well, he's much too drunk to apparate home. And I certainly can't get to Malfoy Manor without losing my head in some way. Maybe I should just go home and leave him here._

It was at this point that my admittedly small bit of motherly instinct began to kick in.

_But he looks so lonely, and he's so smiley when he's with me. Why not just take him home, let him sleep on my sofa?_

The decision began to make more and more sense the more I mulled it over. Eventually, I offered it up to him. "I don't suppose you could direct me to the manor?"

"Mine?"

I laughed. "Yes, yours, you codger. You don't 'spose that _I _have one, do you?" He pushed my shoulder, and I toppled off of the bench, grinning merrily. "But I guess I'll just take you home with me, alright?"

He nodded, and then he dropped his flask onto the ground. He made quite an effort of getting to his feet, and once he had, he was for the most part unsteady. It wasn't until his arm was slung over my shoulder that he began to walk semi-straight. "You alright?" I asked him, sobering a little. I couldn't have the most important wizard in the black-hearted, Death Eater-infested community falling under my watch. The very thought nearly made me explode with giggles. Maybe I hadn't sobered up.

So I took him home, and that was that.

Now he's laying here in my bed, as he is on most nights, and I'm up writing. I'm miserably behind with my paperwork at the Ministry. And it's all because of his little alcohol problem that he refuses to acknowledge. Honestly, though, he's only hurting himself. And my sex life. So nothing's really being harmed, I guess.

Ah, he's waking up. I'll go put on the tea.

Entry Two

December 19th

4:33 PM

I lied. Malfoy did not wake up, and I put on the tea for nothing. However, it's nearly evening now, and he's gone. Thank bleeding goodness.

He did the oddest thing today. As I said, he came in drunk as usual, but when he woke up at two (in the afternoon; make no mistake that he woke up in the middle of the night), he _refused _to drink my tea. He always takes my tea! It's tradition! But when I offered it to him, he steadfastly refused it.

"Malfoy, what is _wrong _with you?" I demanded. He ignored me, and instead stared blandly at my kitchen table. Now I know the damn thing is pockmarked beyond all semblance of decency. But that's what adds character, I think. All the scratches, all the dents, all the chipped places. They all mean something. I grew up with that table in my mother's house. There was no reason for him to stare at the table like he did. I nearly pressed the matter, but he looked so downtrodden... I didn't have the heart.

He's gone now, and I'm just catching up on some paperwork. That's the nice thing about my job, honestly. I can take it all home – as long as I can ensure the Minister that it's safe – and work on it there. I do most of my work from home these days anyway. And it makes it easier to tend to Draco when he's hungover. Although, apparently he doesn't need it.

Ungrateful bugger.

Entry Three

December 21st

Noon

It's nearly Christmastime, and I can't help but worry about what to get Malfoy. I mean, what do you get for the man who has everything? Even though said man doesn't even celebrate Christmas. I guess, growing up in a wizarding world means that you miss out on all the fun, traditional muggle holidays.

I wouldn't give up Christmas for anything. I remember being a girl and spending Christmas with my Nana. She was my mother's mum, and she was the sweetest, dearest old lady that ever lived. I'd swear on any holy book. She was an angel. At Christmastime, Nana used to make this delicious apple crisp-style pie. And Mum always provided the sloppy fruit cake, but Nana never made her feel bad. She knew that my mother wasn't a cook. Fortunately, she passed a lot of her "trade secrets" onto me, which I am grateful for. It keeps a little piece of her with me during the holidays. I wonder if Draco would appreciate my Nana's apple crisp.

I do so miss my parents, but even now, so long after the war, it isn't safe to look for them. I thought about saying "hang the Ministry" and going out and finding them. But I thought better of it. Isn't it better for them to live in happy, peaceful ignorance than for me to have them for a short period and then lose them again? I don't know, I suppose so. It's even worse because I'm employed by the Ministry. To search for them would breach all kinds of protocol, and you know what that would mean? More bloody paperwork.

Anyhow, I've got to come up with something. The issue of Christmas presents simply cannot be ignored.

Entry Four

December 22nd

11:13 AM

I bought his present today, along with the presents for Ron and Harry. And all before noon! Not surprising, since I bought Harry some newfangled thing for his broom, and Ron... Well, I bought the codger a sweater. That's the most he should expect from an ex-girlfriend. He's lucky I'm not bitter.

Anyhow, I hardly see the boys anymore, and it tears me to pieces. We used to be so close. I suppose neither of them can handle the concept of Draco Malfoy, King of Slytherin, crashing on my couch at night. But I just say, let bygones be bygones. However, considering he wasn't raised on muggle sayings, Ron never knows what I mean when I say that. Harry does though, and I can clearly see that he does not agree.

The thing is, Draco has apologized on multiple occasions. Granted, he's usually drunk, but as they all say, "vino veritas" or something along those lines. Drinking makes you honest, whether people want to believe that or not. And personally, I do.

I'm very glad that Draco didn't decide to show up tonight, as I'll have to spend it wrapping presents. Tomorrow, I'm going shopping again, to pick up a little something for Ginny. She deserves it. I've blown the poor girl off on so many occasions, but to be fair, I've been nursing Draco's hangovers a lot more than usual. He's here nearly every night, which is why this night off is such a blessing. I will admit, though, that I almost miss him. He's a nice boy, despite his airs when he's snippy. When he's a little sloppy, or even perfectly sober, he's a genuine person. But when he's angry? Beware. I know, Diary, it's _so_ hard to believe. But it's very true. Although, he can be very generous. (I'll often find lavish gifts accompanied with "thank you" notes after he's had a particularly rough night. I almost never accept them, of course. But it's the thought that counts, right?) He's bought me a set of opal earrings, a lovely scarf he brought back from Paris – I confess, I did keep that one, and some delicious chocolates. I sent those back with a note saying he should eat them before he drinks, and that way, he'll get drunk much slower. He replied by saying I looked underfed and needed to stop working so much and gain some weight. I'm not certain if that was meant to offend or not.

Ginny tells me that what Draco and I have is some weird kind of courtship. But I think it's just him being friendly. He can be quite compassionate, and a good listener occasionally. He has his faults, of course, but we all do, don't we? Anyhow, I make it out like he's _only _over when he's drunk, but that's not true. Occasionally, he just comes over for a visit, and we talk about things. It's never awkward with him, and I appreciate that. It used to be a bear making conversation with Ron, what with his mutters and sighs. He and I never shared interests. But I believe you'll find that Malfoy is quite the scholar. He and I have read many of the same books, and he often makes suggestions as to new ones for me to pore over. And I'll tell you this – I always enjoy them.

But to balance the good, there must be bad.

He's got a vicious temper, and I do mean vicious. Once I roused him up on one topic or another, and he yelled at me and called me a "guttersnipe." A guttersnipe! Who even uses such language? Apparently, Draco Malfoy does. He's also a terrible drunk. As I learned that first night, he progresses from rage to giggles, and then back to rage. He was threatening to bludgeon me to death by the time we made it home. Once he was passed out on the couch though... No, no need for me to continue.

It's time I get back to my work. Ginny will be here soon for a little bit of a chat and I don't want to make her wait while I read about Ministry policy.

Entry Five

December 23rd

7:26 PM

You're probably wondering how my chat with Ginny was. Well, wonder no more, because Draco stumbled in, piss drunk, about ten minutes before she was scheduled to arrive. It was one in the afternoon, and he was already wasted. So of course, I called Ginny and postponed until last night. I told her Draco would be knocked out by around eight, maybe seven if I played my cards right. She was livid, but she told me to do what I needed to.

So I talked to him while he continued to drink. He laid down with his head in my lap, flask in his hand, and we talked. He normally likes when I do that.

The conversation went something like this...

_Me: How are you this afternoon, Draco?_

_Draco: Fine. (Takes a drink)_

_Me: And can you explain to me why it is that it's barely past noon, and you're already wasted?_

_Draco: (laughing) Nope. (Takes a drink)_

_Me: Do you want to take a nap?_

_Draco: (Takes a drink) No. _

_Me: Then what do you want to do?_

_Draco: Have sex. (Takes a long drink)_

Yes, you can imagine my shock at hearing that. And shocked as I was, I would have thrown a punch if he hadn't looked so pathetic while he said it. The conversation continued on in a similar way until finally, he burst out, "Hermione, I love you." My heart twinged.

I tried to count it as drunken nonsense. But when he woke up this morning, (and by morning, I mean afternoon) he looked so ashamed of himself. And if you know anything about Draco Malfoy, it's that shame is not his style. Before he left, he apologized. "I am sorry for my outburst last night." His voice was so quiet, I wanted to kiss his cheek. But that kind of thing doesn't go on between us, as our relationship is purely platonic. I immediately told him he was forgiven, and he left soon after.

As soon as he left, I called Ginny in tears. She came over immediately.

As she popped in, she said: "I knew something had to be wrong! You called me on the telly for goodness sake!" She sounded half exasperated, and half terrified. When she saw my face, she came running over. "What in the name of Merlin happened?"

I explained what he'd said to me. She consoled me in the best way possible. With chocolates and tea, and with bashing Draco with righteous indignation. "The nerve! To practically _live _on your couch, and then to just confess his love while drunk like a total idiot! And then, even worse, to take it back! You don't apologize for these things! You sweep the girl off her bloody feet and shower her with bloody gifts of every kind. What a prick."

Of course, Ginny's wrong. Sweeping girls off of their feet is not Draco Malfoy's style either, although I do admit he's very good at it. I've seen him woo the most cold-hearted girls. He doesn't see it, though.

And now that Ginny's gone, I've had some time to myself, and I'm beginning to think that maybe, just maybe, he's even managed to woo me a little. Why else would I have been crying like a fool when he apologized? Is it because I wanted it to be true? Oh, heavens. Somebody's knocking. I'll be right back.

Entry Six

December 23rd (Later)

11:55 PM

You'll never believe it. Draco just left. We had a long sit down, and he told me he was resolved to quit his drinking. I'm not quite sure how the conversation even began.

It was nearly eight when he came over, and he was holding a small pie. (I know, a pie! Maybe that apple crisp could work...) He set it down on my kitchen table and said, with that little self-deprecating smirk, "Don't get your hopes up, Granger. It's store bought." I laughed and said that I expected nothing less, for I knew that he was no cook. And that's quite true, actually. I once tried to show him how to use my toaster, so next time he didn't have to wake me up in order to get midnight munchies. He nearly burnt the house down, and that's all I'll say.

But anyhow, he began again. "I sincerely apologize again for last night. I never meant to tell you such a thing, especially something that's so wholly unfounded." My heart dropped a little, and it hurt. So he truly held no interest in me. But then, why should I be surprised? "I know you've never cared a hair for me, except in a sisterly sort of way." Untrue. "You've taken good care of me." He smiled here, a genuine sort of smile. I love that smile, though I only rarely get to see it. "It's with all this in mind that I've decided to stop drinking. I see you falling behind in your paperwork, all because you're up half the night taking care of me. I've caused you so much trouble and inconvenience, but I was too selfish to see it." He looked pathetic, so I reached my hand across the table and gripped his.

"Draco, you've never caused me any trouble that I didn't want." I hesitated. "That's not what I meant to say. What I mean is... You're my friend. I'll always try to help you." I felt so foolish, because he just laughed.

"Friends, yes. Yeah, we're the best of friends, aren't we?" I couldn't pick out his tone. It was so odd, so wrong. I was confused by it.

I nodded, trying to pull him back to me. "Really, Draco. It's no trouble. But I do think you're making a good decision to stop drinking. I'm proud of you."

It wasn't long after that that he left.

I must admit, I'm heartily confused. Draco's never the kind to truly apologize. He'll send you gifts and flowers until your home is overflowing, but he'll never say a word. But in these past two days, he's apologized twice. Twice! It makes me feel unsettled seeing him like this. But I sort of like it. He's very sober, very mature. I don't know, I'm so terribly confused.

Entry Seven

December 26th

2:34 AM

Draco's just passed out, and it's the first time I've had a chance to write. And Merlin, but I have so much to tell. I think I'll start with Christmas Eve.

I'd spent all day setting up the Christmas tree. It's always such a hassle to manage it alone, but now that it's all set it up, I think it looks beautiful. It's still up, and the lights are twinkling. It faces the big window of my apartment living room, so it's shining down on the streets. It makes me happy to think that even now, my little tree is reflected over the city of London. Anyway, I'd finished setting the tree up and was just setting all my presents under it. Not _my _presents, of course. They were for Draco, Ginny, Ron, Harry, and a few people from work. But I hadn't received any presents yet, so I had none of my own to put under there. Just as I'd set them down, somebody strode into my apartment.

I knew it had to be Draco, because he's the only one who comes in without knocking. That is, when he's not just randomly apparating in. "Happy Christmas Eve, Malfoy!" I smiled without turning around.

"Happy Christmas Eve, Hermione." He replied. But it sounded strained. And when I looked at him, his face was white as a sheet, and he looked positively ill.

I hastily asked him if he was alright, and he just shook his head. "I haven't had a drop to drink since yesterday morning. And it's making me furious. I was hoping I could stay here. You're the only one who can keep me from jumping ship and running to the pubs." He sat down on my sofa, looking weary. I sat next to him and gently touched his knee.

"Draco, it'll get easier."

As he turned to look at me, his eyes were glistening. He looked like he was on the brink of tears. But they were angry tears, because his face was contorted into a painful expression. He ignored my reassurance, and began to talk. "You know, I've been drinking since I was sixteen. I used to smuggle Fire Whiskey into the Slytherin common room and get wasted with my friends. I told myself I'd stop when I got a job, but I didn't. The stress became less manageable, as did my habit. And it wasn't until I drunkenly told you I loved you – and saw your reaction – that I realized my behavior was unacceptable. But now I'm here, and it's so hard to... not think about... the alcohol."

I rubbed his leg. "I have an idea!" I hopped up and began to prepare some food. It wasn't long before the entire house smelled like good old-fashioned kettle corn. "I once went to a fair in America," I explained, "and this is now my biggest weakness." I brought a huge bowl and set it down between us, and poured us both tall glasses of milk, with cookies on the side.

As I set down the package of Oreo's, Draco laughed. "Another weakness?"

"Yes, I grew up on these. However, these are Double Stuffed. Even _better _than my childhood favorite." I grinned.

So we had milk, Oreo's, and kettle corn, and we hunkered down for the night. I turned on all the old Christmas movies – _A Christmas Carol_, _A Christmas Story_ (one of my father's old favorites), _White Christmas_, _Holiday Inn_, _It's a Wonderful Life_... We watched movies until it was nearly the next morning. Well, it actually was, but it was too dark for either of us to notice. We must have fallen asleep, because when I woke up, the credits of _It's a Wonderful Life _were rolling. I looked at the clock. 12:48 AM.

I nudged Draco and he jolted awake. "Merry Christmas," I whispered. He was adorable – all disgruntled and sleepy looking. But then he smiled at me.

"Merry Christmas."

My heart dropped then. And for the first time in my life, I felt sorry that I couldn't just reach over and kiss Draco Malfoy. The look on his face... it was perfect. I can't even detail it here, it was too perfect. A mixture of exhaustion, and happiness, and love. Yes, love. But we'll get to that.

"Do you want to open your presents?" I continued to whisper.

He nodded. So I scrambled up and collected his boxes from under the tree. There were two, and they weren't particularly large.

"Hold on, I left yours at the door." Still with sleep in his steps, he got up and collected my gift. It was a huge package, bulky, and oddly shaped, with a medium package and a small package on top. "You first," he prodded.

"No, you. Yours isn't nearly as impressive, and I don't want your gift to be anticlimactic because mine was so wonderful."

He laughed. "You haven't even opened it yet!"

"But I know you, Malfoy. And 'extravagant' is your middle name."

He smiled and happily began to open his gift. The larger package contained a magical cloak. "I had it specially made," I said excitedly. "And with all organic materials. Nothing house-elf made, although the inside is real fur. I couldn't have Master Malfoy wandering around in _faux _fur. To be fair, it's from a fair chase hunter, so he got the animals by honorable means. And the meat of the animals were served at a food shelter. I checked." He chuckled and stroked the soft, warm-looking winter robe.

"It's beautiful, Hermione." He told me. He opened the second, smaller package, and it contained a quill. It was made of a long, gray ostrich feather.

"I charmed it to write in whatever color ink you desire, you only have to tap it and say the color." I was proud of myself, I admit, and I made the gift seem a lot cooler than it was. But he seemed happy with it, and that's all that matters.

"That's wonderful!" He exclaimed. "It will really come in handy at work." He looked genuinely excited, and that made me happier than you can imagine. "Now, before you open your presents, I want you to know that the three of them are terribly disjointed. None have anything to do with the other. So open the large one first, then the middle, then the smallest.

I eagerly began on the first package, and what do you know? It was a kitten!

"She's non-magic," Draco explained. "I can see how much you pined for that weasel you used to call a cat, Crookshanks. So I wanted you to have a new one. Only, one with less of a pension for getting into trouble." We spent the next few minutes coming to a decision of what to name my kitten. Once I decided on Amaryllis, he got the oddest look on his face. I nearly though he was blushing. "That's a beautiful name. Just like you." I dove over and hugged him, planting a kiss on his cheek. At least, that's what I'd intended. Instead, it was half-on, half-off his lips.

His head turned abruptly towards me.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to... I'm just happy..." I offered dumbly. You can't begin to imagine my distress. In that moment, I was sure that I'd ruined everything. But instead, he smiled at me.

"I always knew you couldn't resist me," he teased.

I socked him in the arm. "Shut up, Malfoy." I then went to work on the medium package. Once open, I saw that it was a painting. He explained to me that it was from the Manor, and it had always reminded him of me. It was of a girl with a book, sitting in the middle of a vast field, with her back against a tall, gnarled tree. My eyes nearly filled with tears. It was beautiful, and I told him so.

And then I opened the last package. Nothing can compare to that last package.

I saw a small, velvet box. And when I opened it, there was a ring. My stomach dropped to the floor, my heart ceased beating, and my eyes froze wide open.

"Draco... What on earth...?" I must have looked like a fish, mouth and eyes wide, staring dumbly.

He cleared his throat, his cheeks turning bright red. "It was my grandmother's wedding ring. It was supposed to passed on to the next Lady Malfoy. However, you know my plans concerning marriage..." Yes, I knew them. I knew that he had none. "...and I wanted to give this to the woman who takes care of me better than any wife could. As a thank you."

"It's too much," I gasped out. I still had little lung function, and even less brain function, so the words were strangled.

"No, it's not. I could never thank you enough for how kind you've been to me. That first night... you could have left me there at the pub. But you took me to your home, and have let me verbally berate you on many nights when I was too drunk to realize I was doing it." He cleared his throat again. "Hermione, I gave up drinking for _you_."

Now I know this is complete bullocks, and you all are probably not as interested in any of it as I am, but I am going to tell you that right there and then, Draco Malfoy laid on me one of the best, most romantic kisses I've ever received. My heart thumped, my hands shook, my toes curled. It was a brilliant kiss. And that kiss turned into something else.

Before I knew it, he was crawling on top of me, kissing me everywhere. Clothing was shed on the floor, hands were roaming... I blush even now, just thinking of it. But there you go. I had sex with Draco Malfoy, on my couch, at 2:00 in the morning, on Christmas, his grandmother's ring on my finger. And it was wonderful sex at that. Just plain wonderful.

And when we woke up hours later, I was naked and wrapped around him. He was already awake, and smiling down at me. He kissed my nose. "Happy Christmas, Hermione."

I kissed him back, and wished him a Happy Christmas.

We spent the rest of the day in similar fashion – nude and randy – until we both had to dress. Ginny and the boys were coming over for dinner. When I told him, his face paled, but he bore it admirably. We all had a lovely dinner, although a bit awkward at times. But I know they'll warm up to Draco. I can tell that Ginny knows, even though she barely said a word. She hugged me before she left and said, "Nice rock." And she winked.

So now I'm here, with Amaryllis on my lap and my pen in my hand, and I can't help but wonder...

Where will we go from here? And how will I ever celebrate Christmas again, when I know that it will never be as good as it was yesterday?

I guess I'll just have to wait for another adventure. Until next time, Diary.

_Hermione Jean Granger_


End file.
